


Feeling Lucky?

by CrossingTheFourthWall



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (including the Evil Stan AU that's shown in the first chapter), Gen, also: hints that the Puppet AU won't end to badly, funny little AU I came up with in Forduary, hints at other universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 17:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossingTheFourthWall/pseuds/CrossingTheFourthWall
Summary: Some Fords have to rely on their intellect in order to survive on the other side of the portal. But there is one who can rely on nothing but sheer luck, if he felt like it.





	1. Chapter 1

Ford was abnormally lucky when compared to his counterparts -- the Ford from Dimension K-6297, at any rate. His near-impossible lucky streak had gotten him in and out of heists for parts and supplies, bounty hunter pursuits,  _ and _ accidental run-ins with less-than-desirable characters more than most would be able to count. Even  _ he’d _ stopped counting long after he’d ended up on the other side of the portal, which was a length of time that he’d long stopped trying to count, as well.

Even  _ Jheselbraum _ had commented on his abnormally lucky state, saying that she was surprised he hadn’t managed to get back to his home dimension  _ sooner. _

Blaster fire danced at Ford’s feet behind him, and he quickly picked up the pace as he shook himself out of his thoughts.

“Get back here, Fordsy!” yelled a gravely voice from behind him. “I wanna see how lucky you  _ really _ are!”

It wouldn’t do to let his thoughts wander, when he was being chased by the Fish for the fifth time in his life.

Ford turned sharply and scrambled down an alley as Fish cackled behind him. “I don’t think my luck is going to  _ let _ you catch me, Stanley!” he yelled back.

That got him a low snarl and more blaster shots aimed at his behind; a few kicked over trash collectors took those shots instead of him. “We’ll see about that, Poindexter! Yer not gettin’ away from me this time!”

_ That’s what he always says. _ Ford grinned a little to himself at the thought of the last few times that the two of them had happened to run into each other.

He caught sight of a metal fence up ahead and leapt against a wall before somersaulting over and landing on the other side before bolting again and getting out into an open street flooded with aliens and creatures from all walks of life. Booths lined the sidewalks, filled with various foods, trinkets, and clothes, and the air was filled with chattering of multiple languages that filtered through the translator Ford was wearing.

A market. And a  _ crowded _ market, no less.

Ford took no time in making his way into the crowd in an attempt to disappear, glancing over his shoulder for a moment to see if Fish was following after him.

He was. The man with Ford’s face and a silver mullet had just left the alley and was scanning the crowd with his still-human eye. Or, at least,  _ visibly _ human eye -- Ford had heard rumors about how the other one looked like Bill’s, but he hadn’t ever seen it for himself.

Ford turned around quickly and wove deeper into the crowd, trying to keep any thoughts of Fish or other bounty hunters in the multiverse out of his head. He just had to get out of this dimension  _ alive _ and continue to concentrate on finding a way back home, not worry about what could happen if Fish managed to catch him this time.

Or any other bounty hunter, for that matter. There had been rumors of a Ford joining their ranks recently….

Ford shook his head and nearly avoided bumping against a man with pointed ears and slightly green-tinged skin.  _ I shouldn’t think about them now. I just need to buy me some time so that I can stay away from Fish for a little while longer. _

He stepped out of the crowd at the other end of the street, looked around again, then caught sight of a boarded-up building and slipped in through the yawning, darkened entrance.

“Hello, Dr. Pines.”

Ford stiffened at the sound of a voice, and he quickly moved away from the entrance and reached under his coat for a weapon. His eyes scanned the darkness quickly, trying to catch sight of the source of the voice. “Who’s there? How do you know me?”

“Calm yourself, Dr. Pines; I’m only here to assist, not arrest.” There came the sound of something metallic clanking against the ground, and a figure stepped into the light streaming in from the open doorway: an adolescent in cobalt and green armor, the child himself with indigo-colored eyes and brown hair cut short.

Ford frowned. The figure looked so human, and yet… “Who are you?”

“Joshua Langstrom.” The young man held his arms out on either side of him, spreading his fingers in their white gloves wide. “I mean you no harm, I assure you.”

“Then how do you know me?” Ford glanced towards the open doorway. If Fish was able to figure out where he was through inhuman means, he doubted that he had much time before the monster that was his brother’s counterpart managed to find him. And fighting him inside a building would not produce the best of odds.

“Who doesn’t know about Stanford Pines and his counterparts?” Joshua responded. “I myself am from a dimension where you’re considered fictional, but that’s not the reason I’m here.”

Ford glanced over at Joshua at that, eyes narrowing. “Then what is?”

“I can offer you a ride to a dimension that is far closer to home than you are right now.”

That would be Ford’s luck kicking in again. “Is there a catch?”

“No catch. It’s just something that I do.”

“Then why is it that I haven’t  _ heard _ of you?”

“ _ Heeeerrrre, Fordsy Fordsy Fordsy,” _ came a crooning voice outside the building.  _ “I know you’re hiding somewhere….” _

“People like me tend to keep to the shadows and don’t reveal ourselves easily, especially with people like him looking for those who would be capable of forcing gates to open to specific dimensions,” Joshua replied seriously. “I’d rather not be found by that one’s master, and I doubt that you do, either. So.” He held out his right hand. “Are you willing to trust me?”

Ford hesitated. His instincts were screaming at him to  _ not _ trust this child who claimed to have a way home for him, but there was something else that was telling him that this kid might be what it was that he needed in order to get back to where he needed to be.

Was that his desperate hope making itself known?

Or was that his luck?

_ “Come out, come out, wherever you are….” _

Ford knew that he and his counterparts weren’t known for being cautious in the best of circumstances. “Fine.” He pulled his hand out from his coat and grabbed the kid’s hand.

Joshua’s indigo eyes sparked, and one end of his mouth quirked up slightly. “K-6297? I think I can do you better than getting you closer.” He slipped his hand out of Ford’s grip.

“What are you--”

Joshua snapped his fingers, cutting Ford off as a blue flash suddenly went off under his feet, and he fell through a portal with a yelp of surprise.

The next thing Ford knew, he was sitting on the wooden floor of what appeared to be a bedroom of some kind.

And there was a boy with a blue and white trucker cap with a pine tree symbol on it staring at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Hello, Dipper,” Joshua said casually, causing Ford’s eyes to shoot over to the boy who was standing calmly next to him.

Ford quickly rose to his feet, turning his attention to the other rather than the child who was staring at him. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?! You ripped a hole in space and time -- and not a natural one, at that! That should have created--”

“A rift, like what the machine that is in the basement of this very house is capable of?” Joshua finished casually. “This is  _ your _ attic, after all.”

The boy -- Dipper, apparently -- squeaked. Loudly.

Ford stared at him, then turned his head sharply to look around the room. He saw two beds -- one covered in stuffed animals, the other being Dipper’s, more than likely -- and recognized none of it as his. Then he saw the triangular window, and the trees beyond it, and he  _ knew. _

But he had to be certain.

“You said you could do me one better than get me closer to home,” Ford hissed at Joshua.

“This is your home,” Joshua replied. “Dimension K-6297. You still carry its dimensional signature, you know -- it’s a wonderful tracking device for World Jumpers like myself. I’m glad that this one was actually one that I could reach; there have been a few that I’ve been barred from because of various obstacles.”

_ “World Jumper? _ Those are nothing more than myths! It’s impossible that people can create stable portals--”

“Just like the one we arrived here through?” Joshua raised an eyebrow as Ford found himself suddenly struck speechless. “The multiverse is far more vast than it seems to be at first glance, Dr. Pines. You are, in fact, home, and with no chance of your enemy of being able to follow us here. Now, I suggest you go downstairs and make sure that Stanley hasn’t activated your Rift Maker yet. And get to know your great-niece and nephew while you’re here? It wouldn’t do if they simply knew you as the strange man who lives in their basement and plans to kick out their  _ other _ great-uncle at the end of the summer.”

With that said, Joshua snapped his fingers, and dropped through a perfectly circular blue portal that suddenly appeared in the floor before it closed up, leaving no sign of any sort of tear in space-time.

Ford stared at the place where Joshua had been standing for a moment.  _ Lucky indeed. _ He turned his head to look over at Dipper, who was still staring at him with wide eyes.

The man held up a six-fingered hand and waved a little. “Ah...greetings?”

The resulting excited shriek from the boy caused the window to shatter.


	2. Chapter 2

Dipper’s wordless shriek quickly turned into mile-a-minute questions and excited babble -- mostly the latter. Ford was only able to catch “Are you the Author of the Journal??” out of the excited, stumbled-over mess.

“Y-you know about my journals?” Ford asked in surprise, looking down at the boy who was looking up with bright, eager eyes at him. He heard footsteps slam down on the stairs below them -- someone else was coming up.

“Yeah!” Dipper scrambled over to his bed and pulled a familiar red and gold book out from underneath it. “I-I found it in the woods on my first day -- wait, did you say  _ journals? _ I’ve only got the one! Does that mean that there are  _ more _ hidden around Grav--”

“ _ Ford?!” _

Ford turned his head sharply at the gravely voice, for a second expecting to see a one-eyed mirror with a golden fish embroidered on an eyepatch. He blinked in surprise when he saw that the fish was on a  _ fez, _ and two normal eyes were staring back at him, wide with shock.

Dipper trailed off and looked at the old man, blinking in confusion. “Y-you...you know him, Grunkle Stan?”

Ford and Stan -- for it  _ was _ Stan -- stared at each other for a moment. Stan in Filbrick’s suit -- something that Ford was sure he had buried in the back of a closet somewhere -- and Ford in his survival gear, black from head to toe, and still carrying his weapons.

A moment later, Ford found himself trapped in a bear hug from his brother.

“You’re okay!” Stan let out a laugh that carried and released so much all at once. “You’re okay….”

Ford blinked a couple times out of surprise at Stan’s show of affection, and he saw three figures standing in the doorway -- a little girl who appeared to be Dipper’s age wearing a sparkle-covered sweater, a red-headed teenage girl, and what looked like a hairless gopher (how one happened to have come to be  _ here, _ Ford had no idea).

“Uh...Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked.

“What’s going on?” the girl asked in confusion. “Who’s  _ this _ guy? And why does he look like Grunkle Stan?”

“I don’t know, he just dropped into our room from out of nowhere -- literally! Some kind of...portal, I guess, opened up in the ceiling and he just dropped right through it! There was this teenager with him too, and he was wearing some kind of armor and he  _ knew _ who I was without me having to say anything!” Dipper waved his hands about. “It was so weird and awesome at that same time!”

“Portal?” Stan repeated. He let Ford go and looked at him with an odd expression, eyebrows furrowing together into a confused frown. “I’ve been working on your damn machine for thirty years and you find someone who can get ya home?”

“Machine?” Dipper repeated. He frowned and put his hands on his hips. “Grunkle Stan, what’s going on?”

“Yeah!” the girl spoke up in agreement.

“Come on, Mr. Pines, you’re not going to leave us hanging, are you?” asked the redhead in typical teenage fashion.

Stan snorted and looked around the room. “Yeah, yeah. Well, cat’s out of the bag now, I guess.” He clapped a hand on Ford’s shoulder, a wide grin appearing on his face while Ford still stood as stiff as a board. “This is my twin brother. The  _ real _ Stanford.”

The hairless gopher gasped. “Another Mr. Pines?!”

“Wait, what?” the teenager blinked in confusion as Ford’s eyes widened -- partially because what he had  _ thought _ of as a hairless gopher was actually  _ human, _ and partially because of something else.

“You  _ stole _ my name?!” he hissed at Stan. “Stanley, why did you--”

“Did you really expect that this house would still be standing after 30 years if you weren’t around to pay the bills for it?” Stan shot back. “I had ta find a way to get you back, and I wasn’t about ta just let this place fall apart and find a new spot in town.” Stan’s brow was furrowed in a frowning glare of sorts. “Besides, there was that monster machine in the basement, and I had ta work on it.” His face relaxed, and he shrugged. “So, I faked my death, basically became you, and that’s the end of that.”

“Stanley, that machine is extremely dangerous --  _ don’t tell me you turned it on--” _

“It’s not working yet!” Stan shot back. “I should know -- I know the ins and outs of that thing, and I’ve been working on it for the last 30 years! All the stupid thing does is throw sparks. And  _ now _ , all that work’s been for nothing because  _ you _ got to go and find a way back here on your own! Couldn’t you have done that sooner?!”

“Like it’s possible to meet a World Jumper on purpose!” Ford snapped in reply. “I’ve been relying on natural rifts between dimensions to go from one to the next; I wasn’t ever expecting that I would  _ ever _ be given a route home, much less one from someone who  _ travels across dimensions as a job!” _

Stan jerked back at that.

“Was that who the guy in the armor was?” Dipper frowned, then pulled a pen out from somewhere and started chewing on the end. He pulled out a notepad and started writing, as though he was taking notes on the conversation. “I wonder how he knew who I was, though….”

“What guy?” Stan demanded.

“A-a teenager in this blue and green armor who dropped through the portal with -- Dipper cut himself off as his eyes widened.  _ “Oh my gosh, the Author of the Journals is my Great-Uncle!” _ He squealed loudly again and started writing in his notepad more vigorously.

“Wait, this guy’s the Author?” the girl asked as Stan looked between the two of them sharply.

“Great-Uncle?” Ford repeated, blinking in surprise.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Stan motioned to the two kids. “They’re Shermie’s grandkids. Dipper and Mabel. Twins, too -- like us.”

“Sh-shermie...Shermie has  _ grandkids _ ?” Ford looked down at the two of them with wide eyes.

“And Dipper, what was that about a journal?” Stan turned to look at Dipper and frowned disapprovingly, hands on his hips.

Dipper ducked his head, hands gripping the notepad and journal underneath it a little more tightly. “I found it at the beginning of summer.”

“Hand it over, kiddo. It’s too dangerous for you to be carrying that around.” Stan motioned for Dipper to hand the journal over.

The boy held it tightly to his chest for a moment, reluctant, but when he saw the look Ford was sending him over Stan’s shoulder he reluctantly handed the journal over to Stan, who handed it to Ford.

“How was it that you didn’t know he had this?” Ford frowned at Stan as he hid the journal away in his coat.

“I wanted to keep the kids away from that junk; they went behind my back!” Stan motioned to Dipper. “What number was that one, three?”

“What does it matter?” Ford replied tersely.

“Because number two might have been found too, dum-dum.” Stan poked Ford in the chest. “Did you really think that hiding them was a good idea, you idiot?”

“Hid them?” Dipper frowned. “Why did you hide them, Great-Uncle Stanford?”

Ford’s eyes narrowed at the question. “I had my reasons.”

“Uh huh.” Stan folded his arms across his chest. “Considering how you were  _ acting _ thirty years ago, I wonder how much of that was because you’d gone nuts.”

“Hey!” Mabel suddenly popped up between the two of them. She looked up at Ford and smiled sweetly. “Hi, I’m Mabel.” The smile faltered a little. “And I’m  _ really _ confused. Could you fill us in a little on what’s going on? I mean, Grandpa never  _ said _ we had another grunkle.”

Ford looked down at the girl -- his  _ niece _ ! -- for a moment, his mouth pressed thin and his brow furrowed. After a moment he sighed. “Oh, all right.”

“Can we start with what happened between you guys?” the human/hairless gopher asked. “Because it sounds like you’ve had a lot of drama.”

Stan snorted. “That’s one way to put it, Soos.” He went over and sat down on Dipper’s bed; Ford moved to stand with his back to the window, hands behind his back as Dipper sat down next to Stan and the other three sat down on what Ford guessed was Mabel’s bed. “If you  _ really _ want to know the full story, it started back in 1960-something, when we were kids.”

Ford rolled his eyes, but Stan kept going, ignoring his brother...mostly. The mention of the Stan o’ War caused his mouth to tighten up a little at the memory, but he managed to keep his emotions in check -- especially when it came to the incident with the science project later.

“West Coast Tech?” Dipper frowned. “Dad said that they were a hoax school that just wanted to be known for getting really, really smart people in. A lot of the people who have graduated from there are really stuck up -- he has to work with a few of them.”

Ford jolted a little in surprise at that, losing his composure rather quickly. “Wh-what?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Mabel put a finger to her chin and cocked her head to one side slightly. “Didn’t he tell us one time that he was just about ready to deck a guy over something that he’d said that turned out to be completely wrong, only for some other guy to end up getting the blame?”

“Yeah.” Dipper nodded. “The boss didn’t want to get sued by the guy’s parents for firing him or something like that.”

Ford couldn’t believe what it was that he was hearing. He shook his head slowly as Stan snorted and the teenage girl and Soos rolled their eyes.

“Sounds like someone needs to grow up,” the teenager commented.

“You said it, Wendy,” Stan agreed. “Maybe I oughta find this guy and deck him myself.” A sneering grin crossed his face. “Or, y’know, lighten him of a few bucks. That place is majorly expensive -- I bet he uses hundred dollar bills for tissues.”

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper and Mabel both yelped at once.

“You could get our dad fired if you do that!” Dipper yelped.

Stan snorted and waved Dipper off. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Ford didn’t get to go to his nerd school and he thought I was the one who broke his machine when I hadn’t, so Pa kicked me out.”

“That’s horrible,” Wendy muttered. “I’d like to find your old man and deck  _ him _ one for that -- you don’t do that to kids!”

“You can deck his tombstone back in Jersey -- the old man died a couple years back. Could’a gone to the funeral, but…” Stan shrugged. “Ma’s still around, though -- she’s living in one of those old folks’ homes somewhere. I’ve got the address somewhere in the house. Anyway, I roved the country for a bit after that, met some people, picked up a few skills, that kinda thing. Then Ford contacted me, and I came up here.”

Ford got the feeling that Stan was glossing over a few points.

“What about you, Great-Uncle Stanford?” Dipper looked over at Ford.

Ford shook his head. “Ford is fine, Dipper.” His expression soured. “Well, after I wasn’t able to get into what was at the time my dream school, I was forced to fall back on the last option that I had.” He was going to have to look into West Coast Tech and see if what Dipper was saying was true, obviously; for now, he let the comments about WCT slide to the back of his mind. “Backupsmore. In a place like that, I had to work twice as hard. I got my Ph.D a year ahead of schedule and received a grant for any future research I could undertake.”

From there, Ford launched into a rather dramatic retelling of events: how he had decided that, since he was an anomaly himself, he would study anomalies -- and that Gravity Falls was a hotspot for them. He described how he had hit a roadblock, decided that building a portal to another dimension was the best way to solve it, and called up his old college friend Fiddleford McGucket in order to get his help.

He saw looks exchanged between the others at the mention of Fiddleford; Ford decided he’d look into that later as well and filed it into the back of his mind next to WCT.

Then came the day they’d tested the machine, and Fiddleford’s running out on him. Ford left Cipher out of the tale, simply saying that something had gone wrong and he needed to shut down the project and hide his research materials.

“It was at that point that I managed to locate Stanley and request he come up here,” Ford said. “I had been  _ planning _ on giving him a portion of my research so that he could take it and hide it somewhere I would never know about it, but he apparently had other plans.”

“Well of course I did!” Stan snapped back. “Ten years without contact from anybody and you suddenly show up out of the blue with ‘Please Come’ and nothing else?! I wasn’t expecting you to just push me away again, that’s for sure!”

“So...why the portal thing?” Mabel asked. “And how come we didn’t know that the Shack has a basement, Grunkle Stan? I haven’t seen any stairs to the basement!”

Stan muttered something about a vending machine, causing Ford to look at him sharply.

“I hid the entrance behind a  _ bookcase, _ Stanley,” Ford said pointedly.

“Well, not anymore. Did you really expect me to be able to keep the house without paying the bills?” Stan frowned back at his brother.

“You mean, the Mystery Shack is--”

“A cover so that you could get Mr. Pines 2 home?” Wendy finished Dipper’s question.

Soos hid his face in his hands as he started bawling. “That’s so beautiful, Mr. Pines!”

_ “Mystery Shack?!” _ Ford repeated. “Stanley, what have you done?!”

“I did what I had to do, okay?!” Stan snapped back. “Conning people is the only gig I know --  _ you _ try living out of the backseat of a car for ten years, Poindexter! You try to find a living, jumping from job to job and never knowing if you’re gonna find a place to call home again!”

The attic fell silent at that. Even Soos stopped bawling as they all stared at Stan with wide eyes. Well, everyone except for Ford, who frowned grimly instead.

“Try that for thirty years,” Ford said shortly.

Stan’s angered face fell in an instant, eyes widening at Ford’s words.

“After the fight that led you to push me into the portal, I have been traveling from dimension to dimension, never staying in one place for too long because _there are_ _bounty hunters after every single version of me from here to the Nightmare Realm_. There are people out there who would be more than willing to find my head and bring it to--” Ford cut himself off and shook his head; they didn’t need to know about Cipher; this was his burden, not theirs. “The point is that my life hasn’t been easy, either. If you think that you can one-up me on how bad each other’s lives has been, think again.”

The others all stared at him with wide-eyed expressions; Soos seemed to be gnawing on his fingernails as Dipper gripped his pen tightly.

“Whoa,” Wendy said.

Mabel looked at Ford with a concerned, furrowed brow, then slipped off her bed and came over and hugged him about his waist. “Well, you’re home now. So you shouldn’t have to think about it anymore, right?”

Ford looked down at his niece with an uncertain expression, then nodded a little. “No, I...suppose not.” His eyes flicked up towards the door of the attic, and his expression hardened. “Which reminds me.”

“Reminds you of what?” Dipper asked.

“I have a portal to dismantle.” Ford slipped out of Mabel’s hug and strode out of the room and downstairs, nose crinkling up in disgust when he saw how much Stan had changed what had once been his place of research.

Stan moved down the stairs after him and went through a swinging door that was on the other side of what had started as a lab and had been repurposed into a living room. Ford frowned at the dinosaur skull that was being used as a table as he passed it…

...and stepped into a  _ gift shop. _

This was the  _ last _ thing that Ford had wanted to see.

“Stanley, what the he--”

“Watch it.” Stan sent a pointed look at the door Ford had just came through. “Those kids are twelve, you know.”

Ford gritted his teeth as Stan hit the buttons on the vending machine where his bookcase had been, opening the hidden door to his basement lab. “What the  _ heck _ have you done to my house?!”

“Did what I had to.” Stan shrugged. “And hey -- I’ve got some good money coming in anyway, and people like the place. So I’m not planning on putting a stop to it anytime soon.”

Ford brushed past Stan as the door to the basement opened up, and he flew down the stairs and into his basement lab. Of all the things that Stanley could have done, turning his house into a -- a  _ tourist trap _ had to be the worst thing possible. He had chosen this location because he wanted to be  _ alone, _ not because he had wanted to be  _ bothered! _

At least Stanley had had enough  _ sense _ to keep the portal away from the children, if their confusion about the mention of the machine was any indication. Although, that hadn’t kept  _ Stan _ from tinkering with it.

Ford felt a chill run down his spine as he entered the one room that he had hoped never to see again. He moved passed the security cameras and other controls and paused at the door leading into the larger part of the laboratory.

The dark, dead, triangular portal rose up over everything.

“You know, I questioned your design choices for that thing after a while.”

Ford jumped and whirled, only to see Stanley standing back by the entrance into the lab. He frowned.

“I mean, if ya  _ had _ come through it, you’d have landed flat on yer face because of that drop,” Stanley added. “You have a thing for triangles now, Ford?”

Ford’s shoulders stiffened at that, eyes narrowing.  _ “Had.” _ He turned and walked into the main portal room, Stanley trailing behind him. “Go back upstairs, Stanley. I can handle this myself.”

“Yeah, no. You’re just going to throw all this out when it can be reused, like that old science project.”

Ford paused at that, turned and looked back. “What?”

“Yeah, see, there’s this thing that people are going on about called  _ recycling _ now and--”

“No, no, not that!” Ford retraced his steps and frowned at Stan. “You  _ saw _ me throw it out?”

Stan scratched his neck, averting his gaze from Ford’s. “Well, yeah. I didn’t leave Glass Shard Beach  _ right _ away. Did ya really think that I’d hoof it as soon as Pa kicked me out?”

Ford hesitated at that, looking at Stan with an expression that was mixed.

Stan noticed, then snorted and moved around Ford. “Well, we’ve gotta demolish this thing, right? I can think of a few parts I could use to make sure my car still runs, and I bet that Soos can find a way to use some of the other bits. Could get a pretty penny for recycling the metal, too.” He pulled off his suit jacket and shirt, revealing a sweaty undershirt and a pot belly that Ford hadn’t expected to see on his brother.

“Stanley, a lot of this technology wouldn’t work well with Earth--”

Stan grabbed a part of what looked like metal and yanked off a strip of silvery material.

“...is that  _ duct tape?” _

“Well, yeah. Best thing to hold stuff together when it’s falling apart, y’know?” Stan grinned at Ford. “Come over here and give me a hand, huh?”

Ford’s fists clenched. “You attempted work on my portal and used  _ duct tape?!” _

Stan finished pulling off a strip from the base of the lever and looked over at his brother, grin fading. “Come on, Ford, did you  _ really _ expect that I would have been able to afford ta get this thing looking like new when I’ve only got a third of the instructions?”

_ “You didn’t hide the Journal?!” _

“Course not! I wanted to get you back! Why would I hide the damn thing that would help me get you back, huh?” Stan waved his arms about, the length of duct tape flapping in the air and following his hand’s movement.

“Because I  _ told you that this was dangerous!” _ Ford motioned to the portal wildly. “You saw what happened! This machine could have very well ended the world!”

“Then why’d you build it in the first place?!”

_ “Because I didn’t know any better!” _

The basement echoed with Ford’s yell; Stan stared at him with wide eyes.

Ford took a moment to collect himself, breathing in deeply for a moment before relaxing. “If you want to help me, then fine.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a short baton before flicking his wrist; the baton expanded into a large staff before what looked like the large head of a sledge hammer expanded out from one end.

“Whoa.” Stan stared with wide eyes.

Ford hefted the hammer over his shoulder and stalked over to the main part of the portal, muttering math calculations and scientific compounds under his breath as old memories resurfaced. Stan turned and watched him as Ford gripped the hammer’s handle tightly in both hands.

He stopped in front of the thin tip of the portal that was buried into the ground, lifted the hammer off his shoulder, and  _ swung. _

The metal crumpled under the head of the hammer, and the entire portal groaned as Ford jumped back, bringing the hammer with him. The entire triangle listed to one side, then collapsed slowly, colliding with the rocky floor and causing the entire room to shake.

“Hot Belgian Waffles!” Stan yelped, trying to find his footing as the shaking subsided. “You got  _ beefy, _ Poindexter!”

Ford grunted, letting the hammer head hit the ground and leaned against the handle for a moment, looking the toppled portal over. Then he picked up the hammer again and started towards the toppled triangle.

There came the sound of running feet as Ford slammed the hammer against the triangle again.

“Grunkle Stan, what -- whoa!”

Ford let the hammer down and looked back sharply at Dipper’s cry. Upon seeing the boy standing a short distant away from the entrance into the basement lab -- along with Mabel, Soos, and Wendy -- he glared at the group of four and pointed back towards the entrance. “Back upstairs, now! This is no place for children!”

Dipper backed up a couple steps at Ford’s barking tone.

“Go back up, Dipper,” Stan replied. “We’ll be up later. Stay in the house, don’t let anybody in, and  _ don’t go runnin’ out in the woods for no reason. _ You got me?”

Dipper hesitated, then nodded a little.

“It’s cold down here,” Mabel commented. “I’ll make hot chocolate for you when you’re done!” She turned and disappeared from sight.

“So that portal thing was real,” Wendy commented. “Sweet. Why are you taking it apart?”

“Because it is dangerous and highly unstable.” Ford hefted the hammer again, then swung it at the portal again, denting the metal. “Now, I would appreciate it if you left.”

“All right, all right. Mr. Pines, mind if I crash here for a while?”

“Do what you want, Wendy,” Stan called back.

“Thanks. Come on, Soos.”

“S-sure.” As the larger man left, Ford could have sworn that he heard him mutter, “This is nothing like what I had written in my fanfictions….”

Ford looked over at Stan with a pointed look and raised an eyebrow. Stan shrugged.

“They’re curious kids who don’t know any better, what do you expect?”

Ford sighed irritably. “I expect them to have  _ sense.  _ Now are you going to help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help, Poindexter. Don’t give me that look.”

**Time Break**

Stan and Ford tore the portal to pieces in a matter of hours, but there was still tension in the air even as Ford gave the remains of the portal one last slam with his hammer.

“So, uh….” Stan looked over at Ford as he leaned against his hammer again for a breather. “What now?”

“Now?” Ford replied crisply. “Now I recover my second journal and reclaim my house. What month is it?”

“June. The kids are staying here for the summer.” Stan’s shoulders sagged. “So...yer gonna kick me out, huh?”

Ford was about to respond, but then the World Jumper’s voice echoed in his head again.

_ “And get to know your great-niece and nephew while you’re here? It wouldn’t do if they simply knew you as the strange man who lives in their basement and plans to kick out their other great-uncle at the end of the summer.” _

Ford paused, looking away from his brother for a moment. During the time that it had taken them to tear the portal apart, he had seen the work that Stan had done in order to keep the portal together. It had looked shoddy, to be sure, but it had done its job of holding everything together.

If he was completely honest with himself, he would have admitted that there were times when he had done something similar on his travels with whatever materials he could find.

Still, he was angry that Stan would attempt to do this, but...if he was open to revealing his feelings….

“First, I need to find my second journal,” Ford replied. “Then I’ll consider any possible future actions.”

Stan relaxed and let out a sigh of relief, even though he didn’t seem to register the fact that it  _ was _ relief. “Okay. Good. The kids are gonna want to get ta know ya now, anyway. Wouldn’t want ta keep ‘em in the dark, right?”

“I...suppose not.” A smile flickered across Ford’s face. He had a  _ niece _ and  _ nephew. _ He hadn’t expected to return home and discover that he had more family than when he had left.

“We’ll have to see about cleaning up this garbage later.” Stan kicked one of the dented metal plates that used to cover the inner workings of the portal. “Man, thirty years of work, down the drain. Doesn’t exactly seem right that it never got used ta bring ya back.”

Ford’s smile disappeared abruptly as he frowned at the comment. “If it  _ had _ been used, it would have created a rift in space and time and who  _ knows _ what kinds of monsters would have followed me through. Gravity Falls would have been placed in the hands of a Weirdmageddon.”

Stan snorted, but he looked serious. “I would have still gotten you back. And you and that nerd brain of yours would have still thought of a way to fix it.”

Ford tapped the bottom of his hammer’s handle, and the staff shortened as the hammer head folded in on itself. Snatching the short baton out of the air before it could fall to the floor, he hid it away in his coat again. “Maybe. But even I have my limits, Stanley.”

“Really? Considerin’ how we were as kids, I’d have thought you didn’t think you  _ had _ any. Especially with how ragged you looked when--” Stan cut himself off, appearing suddenly uncertain. “How did ya end up like that, anyway? Was there someone already houndin’ ya fer your research or somethin’?”

“...something like that.” Ford took one look around the large room, nodding in satisfaction at the large pile of metal and other materials that were scattered around the room and bludgeoned to the point that it was hard to tell what they could have been used for in the first place. Then he turned and started back upstairs, leaving the rest of the machinery intact.

For now, anyway.

“Yer not gonna tell me everythin’ about what happened back then, are ya?” Stan came up behind his brother as they started up to the main floor.

“Some things are best left buried where they were,” Ford replied grimly, not looking back.

There came a grunt from behind him. “Got it.”

The tone in Stan’s voice almost made Ford stop on the stairs...almost like there was something about Stan that hinted at how he might know more than he let on.

Ford shook his head and kept going up, back into that abomination of a room that Stan had turned part of his home into.

He was going to figure out something to do with that abomination after he’d gotten his own affairs in order. There had to be something that he could do about Stanley….


	3. Chapter 3

“G-great-Uncle Ford?”

“Hm?” Ford stopped frowning at his breakfast and the hairs of his brother that happened to be stuck in it. “What is it, Dipper?”

The boy fidgeted a little under his great-uncle’s gaze. “I...I think I might know who has the second journal.”

“Well, why didn’t you speak up sooner?” Stan growled from the stove as he flipped a pancake.

“We weren’t sure whether or not he did have it, so we sent Wendy to spy on his house while you guys were downstairs yesterday,” Dipper explained quickly.

“Yeah!” Mabel nodded. “And when she got back, she said there was some strange stuff going on at his house,  _ and _ she was able to confirm that he has it!”

“Who has it?” Ford demanded.

“Gideon Gleeful.” The redhead -- who had stayed overnight -- twirled a fork between her fingers. “Ugh, I hate that kid. He keeps stealing my moisturizer.”

Stan groaned. “I know you kids haven’t had the best of times with that kid, but do you  _ really _ need to take out your anger on him by siccing my brother on that fake psychic?”

“The bolo tie he  _ had _ was a psychic amulet!” Dipper shot back. “And he’s had this really weird obsession with the house!”

Ford’s eyebrows rose at that. “Psychic amulet?”

Stan also paused and looked over at Dipper. “Yeah, it is  _ kinda _ weird that he wants our house when he already has one.”

“Weird nothing.” Wendy pulled a flashlight with a crystal tied to the bulb end out of her shirt. “I used Dipper’s shrinking ray to sneak into his house and poke around a little. Nearly got sucked up by the vacuum twice -- his mother  _ never _ stops and I have  _ no _ idea why -- and when I finally got to his room, I found a book that looked like Dipper’s sitting in what looked like some kind of shrine.”

“I didn’t see that when he shrank  _ us, _ ” Dipper muttered, frowning. “How did I miss it?”

“It looked recent; probably in the last couple of days,” Wendy supplied. “Honestly, I’m lucky that he wasn’t there when I was.”

“May I see that?” Ford motioned to the flashlight. As Wendy handed it over, he asked, “You called this a ‘shrinking ray’?”

Dipper’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! I found that crystal in the woods -- l-like you said in the journal, where you said you saw animals in strange sizes? There’s a whole lot of those crystals in the woods, and if you shine light through them at a certain angle, it grows or shrinks whatever the light’s aimed at!”

“Really? I assume flipping the crystal changes it between a shrinking and an enlarging ray, then?” Ford ran his fingers over the crystal on the flashlight in interest. “Fascinating!” He pointed it at his fork and quickly flicked the light switch, causing the bit of silverware to suddenly increase in size by a couple inches. He flipped the crystal over and reversed the increase in size a moment later. “Simply fascinating!”

Dipper bounced up and down in his seat. “I know, right?? I really wish I had access to a microscope or something so that I’d be able to see what the crystal’s structure is on a microscopic level! I’d have to be careful not to get my eye shrunk or doubled in size, though.”

“Well, obviously. And have you tried other kinds of light other than natural or incandescent? That could bring up a myriad of alternate affects.” Ford handed the flashlight back over to Dipper. “I would like a look at these crystal growths myself, as well.”

“R-really?”

Stan cleared his throat. “Don’t we have that journal and that Gideon brat to worry about first?”

Dipper slapped his forehead as Ford blinked a couple times, sliding back into focus and away from the discovery that Dipper had just shown him.

“Right, right! If he’s got the second journal, then we’ve gotta get it back from him!” Dipper slammed a fist into an open palm, reminiscent of an action from Stanley from years long past.

“Agreed.” Ford rose to his feet. “How old is this Gideon?”

“He’s younger than us,” Dipper replied. “Ten, I think.”

“And  _ really _ creepy.” Mabel shuddered. “Not good boyfriend material.”

“Not to mention he’s been eating into my paying customers.” Stan scoffed. “He’s just a puny little stage magician.”

“Not  _ just _ a puny stage magician,” Dipper responded. “He tried to kill me because I told him Mabel didn’t want to see him anymore! I bet he knows his ways around spells and who knows what other kinds of things because he’s got one of Great-Uncle Ford’s journals!”

Ford’s trigger finger twitched. “Where does he live?”

Dipper quickly gave Ford the address. “His dad owns a used car lot right next door.”

“Worst bunch’a lemons that I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Stan added. “Seriously, you drive one out of his car lot and it breaks down as soon as it gets on the street. I’ve seen that happen to bozos, and they just turn right around and go buy another one.” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Wants me to sell to him. Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

Ford hardly listened to his brother as he moved away from the table. Checking to make sure that there was a blaster still at his hip (which there was), he started towards the door.

“Great-Uncle Ford, wait!” Dipper scrambled after him as Ford stepped out onto the porch. “L-let me come with you -- Mabel and I have gone against Gideon before; maybe we could--”

“Dipper, as much as I would appreciate your help, I don’t think it would be wise for you to come with me,” Ford replied seriously.

“We could distract Mr. Gleeful for you.” Wendy came up behind the two of them, Mabel right next to her. “He’s probably the only thing standing between you and that creep, and he’d probably call the cops on you if you tried to do anything.”

“Y-yeah!” Dipper nodded vigorously in agreement. “We’ve handled going up against them before -- it shouldn’t be a problem keeping his attention away from Gideon for...fifteen minutes?”

“Hm.” Ford inclined his head slightly. “Getting the attention of the local authorities would make things more difficult….”

Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy all fixed him with determined expressions.

“Very well; but  _ do not _ let on that you are aware of my being in the area.” Ford paused to consider something. “Is he aware of what Gideon is up to?”

“Probably?” Dipper scratched his head.

“Try definitely!” Stan called from the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway behind the kids and frowned at Ford in his tan trench coat and red sweater -- clothes that had been untouched over the thirty years that Ford had been gone. “Least you could’a done is worn that black stuff you came in with. Give that brat a good scare while you’re climbing through his window or something.”

“No time for that,” Ford replied crisply. “Kids, you go on ahead and try to catch this ‘Mr. Gleeful’ and hold his attention for as long as possible.”

Mabel rubbed her hands together eagerly. “I’m gonna go call Candy and Grenda! I’m sure they’ll wanna help!” She scrambled back into the house and up the stairs, just barely avoiding the pig that came crawling out from under the kitchen table.

Wendy pulled something out of her pocket, smirking. “I bet Thompson and the others are up for egging his car lot again.”

“M-maybe we can TP them, too!” Dipper added. “Grunkle Stan went and got some more recently -- I’ll go grab a couple rolls!” He disappeared into the house.

“Now you’re talkin!” Wendy called after him with a laugh.

“Word of advice!” Stan called. “The cops may be dunderheads on the best of days, but they do still have a soft spot for that brat and his dad. You’re gonna need something to distract  _ them _ with if they happen to get called in for vandalism!”

“Not a problem, Mr. P!” Wendy held what Ford  _ guessed _ was a phone up to her ear. “Lee, get the gang together. Wanna bug Mr. Gleeful again? Yeah -- get the gang together and park by the junkyard. We’re gonna need a McGucket-sized distraction if we’re gonna keep the cops off our backs this time.”

Ford did a double-take. “You  _ know _ McGucket?”

Something in his voice caused Wendy to look over at him with an odd expression. “Y-yeah, I’ll meet you there with Dipper and Mabel.” She pulled the device away from her ear and looked at Ford with her eyebrows furrowed together in a concerned expression. “Look, Mr. Pines 2, I don’t know what Old Man McGucket was like thirty years ago, but he’s a crazy old man who lives in the junkyard.”

“Crazy?” Ford repeated.

“Yeah. Whatever he saw in that portal thing must’a done something to his mind or something.” Wendy shrugged.

It took a moment for that to sink in; Ford shook his head. “No, no it wasn’t that. It can’t have been...the Nightmare Realm was nightmare- _ inducing, _ yes, but….” Something else flickered into his mind, then, and his eyes widened. “Oh, no. I  _ told _ him to destroy that infernal device before it was too late!”

“What device?” Dipper came back to the door, arms full of toilet paper rolls.

“Candy and Grenda are ready to roll!” Mabel chirped as she followed after him.

Ford shook his head, forcing memories of another time into the back of his mind and adding something else to the short list of things he needed to do now that he was back in his home dimension. “Good. Then let’s move out.”

Dipper, Mabel, and Wendy clambered into what looked like a golf cart and took off down the road towards town. Ford followed after them at a decent run, his thirty years being on the run leaving him hardly winded by the time he left the woods and reached the town itself. Remembering the address that Dipper had given him, Ford turned down a few streets and jogged past some of the locals without so much as glancing at them. He noticed the wide-eyed stares he got from them; cries of “Stan, where are you off to in such a hurry?!” rang in his ears.

Obviously, Stan had become a bit of an important figure in the town. Or, at least, a well-known one.

Which meant that kicking him out of the house and onto the street would certainly get him a lot of flack for it. Maybe even a mob, if he was that unlucky.

Ford pushed the thought out of his head as he was passed by a blue minivan with a crowd of teenagers hanging out the windows and hollering at the top of their lungs while an old man with a really long beard danced on top of the roof. The dancing stopped after a moment when the old man and Ford’s eyes met for a second, causing Ford to blink a couple times out of confusion.

_ Is that…? _

The van turned a corner sharply; Ford caught sight of Dipper and Mabel in the back window before the vehicle disappeared from sight. He slowed his run as he reached the turn in the street and peered around the fence.

The van parked a few blocks away from a rather nice-looking house; the old man on the roof stood there for a moment, then scrambled to pull something out of his beard as he leaned over to look down at the teenagers who were climbing out of the vehicle below him. He saw Dipper call something up to the man, who nodded and fidgeted a little before looking over at a fenced-in area across the street. He aimed an odd-looking contraption at the area and fired.

A moment later, a rather rotund man came stumbling out, patting out a fire that had manifested on his hat. He shook a fist at the old man, who screeched and leapt off the van before running off on all fours.

When Ford saw Dipper and the others start pulling out egg cartons and toilet paper rolls, he dashed across the street to the house.

“Gideon’s up on the second floor!” Wendy yelled as Ford jumped over the fence. He gave a quick wave in response before he started scaling the side of the house in order to get to one of the windows on the second floor.

“Wow!” one of the boys yelped. “Look at him go!”

“Less talking, more TP-ing!” Dipper yelped back. “Before Bud gets back!”

“You got it, little man!”

While the teenagers started hooting and hollering below him, Ford started peering through the windows of the second floor in an attempt to find the boy Gideon’s bedroom.

He was lucky enough to find the boy’s room at the first window, but  _ alarmed _ when he saw what it was that the little white-haired boy was doing.

Ford grabbed onto the upper edge of the window and jumped forward into the window, feet first.

_ Crash! _

The boy -- Gideon -- squealed like a pig and scrambled back in instinctive shock as the glass shards flew across the room. Some embedded themselves in the candles that were around the circle that had been drawn into the wooden floor.

Ford flew in and stomped down on the triangular shape that was in the center of the circle. He made it a point to scuff the eye out with a boot before he turned his gaze to Gideon and the familiar red and gold book that the boy was holding in his chubby little hands.

“Wh-who -- how dare you!” The wide-eyed expression on Gideon’s face quickly turned to one of anger. “Do you realize what you’ve done?! It took me hours to get that just right, and now you’ve broken the--”

“Give me my journal,” Ford growled, cutting the rant off. “ _ Now, _ boy.”

“--circle --  _ your _ journal?” Gideon blinked abruptly in confusion.

“Yes.  _ My _ journal.” Ford moved closer as Gideon scooted back across the floor, wide-eyed. “That kind of information isn’t something that a child like you should have access to. Hand it over, before you cause irreparable damage to the universe as we know it.”

“Y-you’re the Author?” Gideon’s back bumped against the wall, and he stared in dumbfounded confusion. “B-but -- y-ya look like Stanford Pines! A-are you--”

Ford reached down and grabbed the journal, all six fingers exposed for Gideon to see. The boy’s eyes widened even further as Ford growled out, “Stay away from my house and my research. The knowledge that these books contain is too dangerous for you to comprehend.” He turned and looked down at the circle that had been drawn in the middle of the bedroom floor and scuffed more of the lines, putting out the candles and making sure that the entire thing was completely unrecognizable, much less salvageable.

There came the sound of feet thumping on the stairs outside of the room, causing Ford to turn his head sharply.

“I-I have so many questions.” Gideon rose to his feet, looking amazed.

“I am not going to answer them,” Ford snapped in reply. “If I see you  _ anywhere _ near my house again, I am going to make sure that you question the decision for the rest of your life.”

With that, he jumped out the window and rolled to a stop a short distance from the road.

The blue van that he’d seen before drove up in front of the house; one of the side doors was yanked open.

“Get in!” Dipper yelled.

Ford dove in without argument, and Dipper slammed the door shut as the man crouched between two seats -- and two teenage boys, who stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. The van lurched forward with a screech a moment later, leaving the Gleeful house far, far behind.

“Did you get it?” Dipper asked from where he’d scrambled into the back.

Ford held up the familiar journal, a number 2 written onto the hand on the cover. He quickly hid it away in his coat a moment later. “That boy was about to do something very foolish; I appreciate that you managed to alert me to his presence and had the foresight to check to see if he had it.”

Dipper made a noise that sounded like a muted squeal in response. “I-I’m just glad I could help, Great-Uncle Ford!”

“Thanks for the help, guys!” Mabel added.

“Dude, any excuse to egg that guy’s car lot is a good excuse.” The teenage boy on Ford’s left gave a wide grin. “He’s going to be so steaming mad, I bet you could cook an egg on him!”

The entire van burst out laughing, and despite himself, Ford found himself smiling a little at the thought as well.

“Ya know, Old man McGucket got a little freaked when he saw this guy,” the teenager on Ford’s right remarked. “Any idea why that is?”

Ford’s smile disappeared abruptly. “It’s none of your business.”

“Easy, dude, I was just asking a question.”

Ford saw Wendy look back from the front passenger seat for a moment, then looked at the rather round boy driving. “Stop by the junk yard again before we get back to the Shack.”

“A-are you crazy?”

“Thompson, just do it. This probably isn’t going to take very long.”

Thompson shifted nervously in his seat, but he did as he was told. A few minutes later, they had driven past a tall wooden fence and into a yard that was filled to the brim with wrecked cars and other devices that had long since lost their ability to be used.

Wendy turned around again and looked down at where Ford was crouched. “Mr. Pines, we’re here.” She paused. “He, uh...I don’t know if he remembers you, but--”

Ford shook his head. “If I come out into the open now, he’s going to fly into a panic and force himself to forget again with the memory gun.”

The teens exchanged looks at that in confusion.

“Memory gun…?” Dipper trailed off. “There was something about that in the Journal, but...didn’t you say that was destroyed?”

“I’d hoped it was. However, considering Fiddleford’s present state, I…” Ford ran a hand down his face. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions run rampant. “I don’t think that now is the best time to talk to him.”

Thompson seemed to take that as the signal to start backing out of the junk yard, but then a loud shriek came from somewhere outside the van.

“LET ME GO YOU VARMINTS!”

Ford’s head shot up at the old man’s scream, eyes widening. Before Thompson could punch the van back any further or bring it to a halt, Ford had pushed the side door open and barreled out of the van and into a small group of red-robed individuals, kicking and punching them back with a lot more force than was to be expected from most men his age.

Ford positioned himself between the bearded, hunched over, trembling figure and the red robes, scanning them quickly. When he saw one of them pull out what looked like a gun with a light bulb on one end, he lunged for him and flattened him against the ground.

Ford’s knee slammed down on the man’s hand, shattering the gun-like device.

_ Crack! _

The yell of pain that came from the man a moment later indicated that Ford had broken his  _ hand _ as well.

“How dare you!” one of the robed figures yelled. “That was from the founder -- our only remaining--!”

“Can it!” Ford barked back. “I’ll hit you so hard you’d  _ think _ you’re the founder if you don’t get back!”

The man Ford had tackled scrambled out from under him, cradling his hand close to his chest as the others gathered around him.

“I wish we could unsee this,” one of them complained.

“You can’t unsee anything; those memory guns don’t work forever,” Ford snapped in reply. “The memories  _ can _ and  _ will _ come back, given the proper triggers.” He waved them off. “Get out of my sight, before I make you regret even more coming after this man.” He made a rather dramatic show of reaching for his blaster.

The red robes scattered, running out of the junk yard in a mad, scrambling panic, screaming at the tops of their lungs, “It is unseen!”

“Not anymore, you crazed lunatics!” Ford shook a fist after them, but they were already out of sight. He relaxed his stance and sighed, shaking his head.

“...Stanford?”

Ford turned his head a little at the nervous lilt in the voice behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed before turning around completely to look down at the man whose life he had just saved.

Fiddleford McGucket stared back up at him with wide eyes, looking Ford up and down as though he was searching for something. “I-Is...is that really you?”

Ford hesitated. He could very well turn and run and get the kids out of the junk yard with him at this moment -- he didn’t  _ want _ to talk to Fiddleford now, but...if he had a chance, while he still remembered….

Ford sighed again and dropped down into a crouch, causing Fiddleford to scramble back a little at the movement. “It’s me, Fiddleford.”

Fiddleford stared at him with a disbelieving expression.

Ford fidgeted a little under the other’s gaze, adjusting how his trench coat furled out behind him. “I, uh...I destroyed the portal yesterday. I couldn’t before because...well, you were right, Fiddleford, and I ended up trapped on the other side. I did manage to find a way home without...without  _ you know who _ getting through.”

Fiddleford sucked in a breath sharply at that, his eyes widening.

Ford’s gaze wandered away from his old friend and to what looked like a shack made out of scrap metal.  _ Was that where Fiddleford has been living for the last thirty years?  _ “He won’t be able to get into this dimension anymore; I’ve made sure of that.” He paused. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for everything that happened between us. At this point in time, I’m just...I’m glad to have seen you. I’d understand if you didn’t want to--”

Suddenly there was something -- no, some _ one _ \-- colliding against his front, causing Ford to lose his balance out of surprise as Fiddleford slammed into him.

“You big idiot.” Fiddleford’s voice was muffled against Ford’s sweater as the two of them lay on the ground. “You big, idiotic idiot.” He lifted his head and looked at Ford, who was watching him with a saddened expression.

“I know,” Ford replied. “And I’m sorry for it.”

Fiddleford rapped his knuckles against Ford’s side, but the action didn’t have much force behind it. “You’re more muscle-y than I can remember.” He sounded slightly surprised.

“Thirty years on the run can do that to a man.” Ford paused, then reached up a hand and rapped it against the side of his head.

_ Clang clang. _

The noise caused Fiddleford to stiffen up.

“I’ve taken precautions against the demon,” Ford explained. “He can’t get into my mind; no one can tamper with it, in fact.”

Fiddleford blinked owlishly a couple times, then reached up himself and rapped against Ford’s head, getting the same sound. He pulled his hand back quickly. “Ford, what  _ happened _ to you?”

Ford looked away from Fiddleford at the question. “I suppose...I learned my lesson the hard way.”

“Well, I gathered  _ that _ . You Pines are all too stubborn for yer own good! It’s like everythin’ has to be pounded into yer skulls before you learn anythin’!” Fiddleford started pounding his fists against Ford’s head, producing a cacophony of noise.

“Ow ow ow!” Ford pulled his head back and put his hands between his head and Fiddleford’s hands. “I may have a metal plate in my head, but that doesn’t mean that doesn’t hurt!”

“Good! Cause it means I can still pound more lessons in if ya don’t listen!” Fiddleford shot back. “Have ya made up wit’ yer brother yet?”

“Wha--”

“ ‘Cause I can remember him bein’ nice ta me more ‘n a few times, an’ if yer gonna keep on bein’ stubborn, then I’m gonna reinvent the memory gun an’ wipe out the incident that got you two feudin’ in the first place!” Fiddleford’s voice was slowly getting louder. “I know family feuds, an’ if ya don’ do somethin’ now, yer gonna end up splittin’ yer family in two fer so long that they’re fightin’ just fer the sake of fightin’, and then where are ya gonna be, huh?!”

The junkyard fell silent at that. Ford had a guilty sort of look on his face as he turned his head to look away from Fiddleford again.

“So  _ go back and talk to him ya big lug!” _ Fiddleford started pounding on Ford’s head again, causing the other to react by pushing the bearded man off and scrambling to his feet. “Go on, git! An’ the next time I see ya, it better be wit’ yer brother!” He shook a fist at Ford in a threatening manner, but there was a spark in his eyes that said he was equally humored and angry.

Ford scrambled back to the van and climbed in, shutting the door behind him and dropping into his previous position between the seats as Thompson backed out of the junkyard and drove out of town. None of the kids looked at Ford; they must have heard most of the conversation.

Ford sighed and put his head in his hands, then felt a pair of hands on his back and glanced back.

Dipper and Mabel gave him reassuring sorts of smiles.

“If there’s anything we can do to help, Great-Uncle Ford,” Dipper said, “you can count on us.”

“Yeah.” Mabel nodded in agreement. “Anything to get you two to hug it out!”

Ford stared at the two of them with a sort of uncertain expression, then gave a quick little smile in response before returning his attention to the front of the van.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen now, or if the kids  _ were _ in fact able to help him. He had been thirty years too far gone from this plane of existence, and it showed.

Ford found himself quietly dreading the amount of time he was going to have to spend adjusting back to his home Earth.


	4. Talk Things Out

Knowing that he and Stanley had to talk was one thing. Actually  _ getting around _ to talking to Stanley was something else entirely.

Mostly because Ford didn’t really know how to approach the subject of the rift that had formed between himself and his twin. Not to mention the fact that he had to get used to being back on Earth and there were a lot of things that he didn’t know about that was common knowledge for everyone else.

Ford’s brow furrowed at the computer screen and the newspaper that Dipper had found for him on the Internet, which was apparently this dimension’s version of a wireless information grid.

“Of course they turn out to be not everything that I had hoped they’d be.” He scowled at the news about WCT and how high their tuition was -- not to mention how they were apparently making their own students’ test scores appear higher than they actually were in order to keep themselves high up on the list for recommended engineering colleges -- before clicking back to a news article on Backupsmore.

It apparently now called itself “Underdog University,” which Ford found to be horribly ironic.

“Catchin’ up?”

Ford whirled at the sound of the gruff voice and blinked a couple times when he saw his brother standing behind him. He frowned. “What are you doing in the library? Don’t you have that...that  _ attraction _ of yours to run?”

“Yeah, but I got a call about a double of me running around town an’ I figured I’d make sure people knew you weren’t me.” Stan shuffled his feet against the carpet.

Ford adjusted how he was sitting on the chair. “And how are you introducing me to them?”

“I-I’m just sayin’ that yer my brother from out of town. Do ya really think that I’m gonna say anythin’ else at this point?” Stan’s brow furrowed.

Ford frowned at the look on Stan’s face. Stan didn’t seem angered at his comment; he seemed...almost nervous.

It took a moment for Ford to consider even  _ why _ Stan would even  _ be _ nervous.

Ford sighed and turned to look back at the computer. “Is there anything else that you came here for?”

“Yeah. Mabel said ya...ya wanted ta talk.”

Ford’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to enter his next query into the electronic subconscious of this dimension. He didn’t move, didn’t turn his head.

“I...I know it’s prob’ly not the best time, since yer still gettin’ settled back in, but…” Stan trailed off. “Ya know what, forget it. Ya probably wouldn’t want ta talk ta me until ya kick me out of the house, anyway.”

He turned and stomped off, leaving Ford sitting alone in the library corner, hands still hovering over the keyboard.

He let them drop after a moment. “A sdkl” appeared in the search bar as he bowed his head a little and sighed.

“Great-Uncle Ford?”

Ford lifted his head and looked to his right, blinking a couple times when he saw Dipper standing next to him with a rather large package under his arm.

“I...I just saw Grunkle Stan. Have you--”

“Not yet,” Ford admitted, quietly. “It….” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Do you need a plan?” Dipper offered. “I-I could come up with something. Mabel says that I plan too much for everything, but maybe this time--”

“I appreciate the thought, Dipper, but I doubt that you would be able to help me as much as you would like.” Ford sighed again and shook his head.

“O-oh.” Dipper pulled back a little, putting a hand on the package. “Um…” He bit his lower lip. “I-I don’t know if you’d be up to it or not, but...I-I just got this today and I’ve been looking for people who would be willing to play with me.” He held the package out so that Ford could have a look at it. “Mabel doesn’t want to play because she doesn’t want to think about math, and Soos is more into--”

“Is that Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?”

Dipper looked up at Ford’s question and saw that his great-uncle was staring at him with an agape expression. “Y-yeah! Do...do you play?”

“Do I play?” Ford gave a short laugh. “‘With pen and paper, shield and sword, our journey is our sweet reward!’ It’s been years since I’ve been able to sit down and play a proper game!” He frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Although, it would be rather difficult to play if we only have the two of us…”

“D-do you think Grunkle Stan could play with us, too?”

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stanley never saw much of a point in attempting to play, much less make sense of the game. When we were younger, he thought it ridiculous that  _ charisma _ was something you had to roll for.”

“Oh.” Dipper’s hopeful expression fell, and he let out a sigh. “Sounds a lot like Mabel. She doesn’t want to think about math very much.”

Something shifted in the bookshelves near them, causing Ford’s and Dipper’s heads to turn sharply.

Ford’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the leg of a blue suit and part of a ridiculous hairstyle.

“Maybe we should be having this conversation elsewhere,” Dipper said carefully.

“Good idea.” Ford vacated his chair and gathered his notes before starting for the library’s entrance. Dipper followed on his heels, game under his arm.

If either one of them heard a child’s voice behind them, they didn’t say anything.

Dipper didn’t speak up again until they were out on the street.

“I-I know you don’t want a plan from me, but...have you figured out how you’re going to talk to Grunkle Stan yet?” Dipper pulled the bill of his cap down when Ford looked over at him. The pine tree symbol on his hat still sent chills down Ford’s spine, but at least he knew they wouldn’t have to make use of the Zodiac with the portal demolished and Bill still on the other side.

Ford sighed and moved his gaze away from his nephew. “I have seen countless dimensions and I’ve defeated many creatures. I will talk to Stanley; the time simply isn’t right for it yet.”

Dipper nodded a little. “Yeah, I know the feeling. But, uh...sometimes it’s just good to go for it, you know? I, uh, I tried to plan how to talk to a girl and how our conversation would go...but I found out that’s not how I should do things. Maybe you should just…” Dipper trailed off and played with his hat. “Just go for it?”

Ford watched Dipper turn his head away quickly again. His brow furrowed as he looked down the street as his thoughts started to turn.

Dipper was essentially suggesting that Ford “wing it.” Ford did  _ not _ do very well with “winging it.”

At least, most Fords didn’t.

Ford still had his luck -- luck which had done more to help than harm him since he had returned to his dimension. As far as his journal and the way he had returned, at least. He still wasn’t sure about the Fiddleford or the information he was learning about the truth of things, but it  _ sometimes _ appeared as though he was going to the right direction.

Ford knew it wasn’t a good idea to put complete trust in his unusual luck. People who  _ tried _ ended up either dying or managing by the skin of their teeth.

He wasn’t going to trust his luck.

Not completely.

**Time Break**

It turned out that fate did not plan to simply let Ford go about his own way of talking to his brother.

Mabel came into the kitchen with Stan in tow as Ford and Dipper were starting to set up. “Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan’s got something he wants to say to you!”

Ford looked up from his dice and character sheet, blinking in surprise. He looked over at Stan, who rubbed the back of his head and averted his gaze from his brother.

“Well?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Stan fidgeted, glanced at Ford, then looked away again quickly. “I, uh…” He sighed. “Mabel, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can!” Mabel insisted. “Grunkle Stan, I could stab the tension in this house with my knitting needles. You gotta hug it out!”

“Kid, it ain’t that easy.” Stan shook his head.

Ford went back to his dice and looked at the numbers he’d rolled. He spun his pencil in between his fingers, then sighed and put the pencil down.

“Sure it is! Dipper and I do it all the time, right, Dipper?”

“Uh…” Dipper looked between Ford and Stan as Ford looked up from his dice again. “Mabel, I don’t think what works for us is going to work for them. There’s...there’s a lot of stuff that we don’t know about that they did, you know….” He trailed off and ducked his head as the looks he was getting from the rest of his family.

Ford glanced over at Stan and noticed that his brother was looking at him; the two of them quickly turned their gazes away from each other and focused elsewhere.

Ford found himself staring at his dice again, and at the lousy 1 he’d thrown among them for a possible character’s stats.

_ Critical miss on social interaction. _

Ford sighed irritably. If  _ this _ kept up, he and Stan were going to be dancing around the subject -- and each other -- for the rest of the summer. If they were going to get things settled  _ now, _ one of them was going to have to open his mouth and  _ say something. _

But what?

Ford wracked his brain for something that he could say to get the conversation started, brow furrowing as he glared at the dice as though he could vaporize them just by looking at them.

“Y’know, Poindexter, I’m surprised ya haven’t started throwin’ blows like ya did when I got here thirty years ago.”

The comment threw Ford out of his thoughts abruptly that he looked up sharply from the dice and looked over at Stan with a befuddled expression.

“I mean, I stole yer name, I stole yer house, an’ I tried ta activate that thing in the basement. Ya...didn’t seem to happy about the fact I still had yer journal, either.”

Ford sighed. “No, I’m  _ not. _ That information is dangerous -- I’d told you that it needed to be  _ hidden. _ ”

“And if it was so dangerous, why didn’t you just destroy it in the first place?”

“Because not  _ all _ of it was dangerous.”

“Then you could have just gotten rid of the bits that were.” Stan folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow as Ford’s frown deepened. “Or did you not want to do that, either?”

Ford could see the truth in what Stan was saying, but that didn’t mean he was going to simply let Stan roll over him. “You weren’t in the position I was in, and I  _ couldn’t  _ destroy something that I’d worked so hard on! I spent  _ six years _ gathering that data! If I had just destroyed it, then I would have had to go through my studies all over again!”

“Uh huh. Then why is it that you were muttering about going to see unicorns last night?”

“Unicorns?” Mabel’s eyes lit up instantly. “There are  _ unicorns _ here?”

How had Stan  _ heard _ that? “I require some of their hair to make a barrier around the house in order to keep the supernatural  _ out. _ There are some things out in the woods that you don’t want to be allowed to rampage in here freely.”

Of course, Ford was  _ mostly _ thinking of Bill, but he wasn’t about to tell them that.

“Unfortunately, they are incredibly annoying and will only let someone with a pure heart take anything from them.” Ford leaned back in his chair and sighed irritably.

“I’ll go! I’ll do it!” Mabel rushed up to Ford and gave him a wide-eyed, pleading stare. “I’m probably the most pure-hearted out of all of us!”

“She’s got a point there,” Dipper said, nodding in agreement.

“I could make it a girl’s day out and bring Candy, Grenda, and Wendy with me!” Mabel squealed. “CanIgocanIgo? Please please please?”

Ford hesitated, but Mabel’s eyes only seemed to get bigger and bigger and more and more pleading by the second. He sighed. “All right, all right.” He reached into his coat and pulled out his second journal. “You’re going to need this if you’re going to want to find them -- I’ve marked the pages that you’re going to need;  _ only _ look at those, understand?”

“Okay, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel rushed out of the room before Ford could grab something else from inside his coat to help her defend herself. “Candy, Grenda, Wendy! Clear out your afternoons -- I’ve got something awesome planned!”

“After talking about how dangerous your research is, you just let her  _ take off _ with one of your journals?” Stan demanded. “Ford, you--”

“I’ve given her something to do,” Ford replied shortly. “The second journal contains spells more than anything else, and they are all encoded to ensure that they won’t be read easily.”

“Gideon probably figured out how to read them,” Dipper muttered. He ducked his head when Ford looked over at him.

“...I highly doubt that Mabel will be making use of such things.” Ford looked back at Stan. He didn’t want to let it slip that he was partially trusting that some of his luck would rub off on Mabel and let her get the unicorn hair he needed.

“Not unless she runs into Gideon, which probably isn’t going to happen if they’re in the middle of the woods,” Dipper agreed. “I trust Mabel. She’ll be okay.”

A part of that statement made Ford want to flinch a little, but he managed to hold back from doing so.

“Besides, Mabel and I have faced all sorts of things so far this summer -- she’ll be fine,” Dipper added quickly.

“Kid, what are you--”

“Yes, I read the notes you added to my journal.” Ford didn’t look over at Stan as he felt his brother’s sharp gaze turn to him. “Although I admit that I am impressed with the fact that you managed to subdue a  _ Gremgoblin, _ that was incredibly dangerous,  _ especially _ at your age.”

Dipper ducked his head at that, hiding his face under his baseball cap.

“Grem -- ya know what, I don’t wanna know.” Stan shook his head. “Dipper, ya mind gettin’ out of here for a while? Keep an eye on Mabel or something.”

“Uh…” Dipper looked between Stan and Ford, then nodded and ran out of the kitchen without a word.

Stan stood for a moment, then walked over to where Dipper had been sitting across the table from Ford and sat down. He eyed the sheets and dice in front of him before carefully pushing it towards the center of the table, making sure the dice didn’t turn over.

“So.” Stan folded his hands and rest them on the table. “Ya still plannin’ on kickin’ me out at the end of the summer or not?”

Ford sighed and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I want my house and my life back Stanley. But that doesn’t mean I want you out of either one, either.”

Stan blinked blankly. “Wait. Yer  _ not _ kickin’ me out?”

“...I’ve seen what the people here think of you. You’ve made such a large mark here that my coming here has caused an uproar. And--” Ford stopped himself, then sighed and turned his gaze away from Stanley.

“...and I’m not sure if I should stay.”

The room was silent.

“Bullshit.”

Ford blinked when he heard Stan swear.

“I drifted for over ten years and I was still able to settle into this place. You really need to learn to take better care of houses, Ford; this place was starting to fall apart even before I started turning it into the Mystery Shack. I know yer keepin’ things to yourself, so I won’t push ya, but really, did you  _ really _ think a portal was going to be able to  _ help?” _

Ford didn’t say anything, but he looked back at Stan. As soon as their eyes locked, something in Stan’s face shifted.

“All right, you don’t want to talk about that either; fine, then.” Stan folded his arms across his chest. “If you don’t want to talk about that, what  _ do _ you?”

Ford let out an alien curse, causing Stan’s eyebrows to shoot up. “Stanley, do you  _ really _ expect me to know? I’ve been in other dimensions for  _ thirty years, _ I don’t  _ know _ Earth etiquette as much as I used to, and in case you haven’t noticed--”

“Yer havin’ a hard time adjustin’ an’ that’s why yer thinkin’ of leavin’,” Stan finished. When Ford stared at him with a wide-eyed expression, Stan snorted. “Ya really think I haven’t noticed, Poindexter? You’ve jumped at the coffee machine turnin’ on every mornin’ like a shot’s gone off, ya’ve been stayin’ in the basement rather than sleepin’ anywhere else in the house, an’ ya  _ definitely _ didn’t know  _ not _ ta give kids weapons.”

“Mabel has a grappling hook, I simply made a logical progression from that to a crossbow!”

“Which was the same one you pointed at my face when I got here thirty years ago, if I remember correctly,” Stan replied shortly.

“Stanley--”

“Not right in the head, yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t think I know? Ya kinda gave it away when you demanded if I’d come to steal yer eyes.” Stan pointed at his own. “Now, like I said, I won’t bug ya about whatever it is that got ya thinkin’ about makin’ a portal or what ya did on the other side, but--”

“There are other things to talk about,” Ford responded dully.

“Yeah. Starting with  _ what the heck you were thinking when you decided to call me in only to send me off. _ ” Stan slammed his hands down on the table, causing Dipper’s dice to bounce a little. “You wanna know what I thought? I thought we were gonna get back together and do what we always talked about when we were kids! And then you went about kicking me out  _ again!” _

“You did  _ not _ know what I was going through at the time!” Ford snapped back. “I-I thought that the world was  _ going to end _ if I didn’t  _ do something. _ ”

Stan jerked back a little. “Then why didn’t you tear it apart?”

“It was  _ research. _ ”

“Research schmesearch -- if I were you I would have torn the thing down because  _ my life _ was more important! You nerds like your books more than your own lives!”

“It’s the one thing we can contribute to society;  _ of course _ we consider it more important than our lives!”

Stan’s wide-eyed stare took a moment to sink in, as did the words Ford had just yelled across the table. His own eyes widened as he sat back in his chair and groaned, running a hand down his face and refusing to look at Stan.

Stan sighed. “We’re both screwed, aren’t we?”

Ford made a noise that sounded like a mix between a hum and a grumble. This was  _ not _ how he had been expecting this conversation to --

Wait.  _ Both? _

Ford raised his head and looked at Stan oddly. Stan saw the look and raised his hands.

“Oh, no. We’re not goin’ inta that. I’m not buggin’ you, yer not buggin’ me.”

Ford eyed him for a moment longer, then dropped his head again and shook it slowly. He reached into his coat and pulled out a canteen, which he took a swig of.

“I mean, I wasn’ out there for thirty years, but...ya get the idea.” Stan paused. “What’s in that?”

“Something from another dimension.” Ford had honestly forgotten which one it was by now. “It’s strong; I don’t know if you’d be able to handle it.”

Stan rose from his chair and came over, motioning with one hand. “Try me.”

Ford hesitated, but when Stan persisted he reluctantly handed the canteen over.

Stan took a swig of the canteen’s contents and blinked rapidly. “Whoa. That’s strong stuff. How is it ya don’t look even buzzed?”

“When you travel through multiple worlds, you tend to learn quickly that you need an iron stomach.” Ford took the canteen back and hid it in his coat again.

“Geez. And I thought that eating out of garbage bins gave  _ me _ an iron stomach.”

Ford snorted. “We’re both messed up, aren’t we?” This conversation was going better than he had been expecting it to; he’d thought that they would have gotten into a fist fight by now over one thing or another. The worst thing they’d done was raise their voices at each other.

Was this his luck coming into play? Or was it something else?

Stan didn’t say anything, simply standing near where Ford sat with a confused expression. “So, uh...are the kids gonna come back and see us blubbering like old men?”

Ford snorted at the mental image and shook his head. “I doubt it.”

Stan mimicked the snort. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Well, uh...I’m gonna go work on some exhibits. If, uh...if ya wanna talk, I’ll be around.” He started to move out of the kitchen.

“Stanley, wait.”

Stan paused in the doorway and looked back at Ford.

Ford hesitated, then shook his head. “There’s a safe trail through the woods that I used to walk in the mornings. I’m planning on starting to do that again early tomorrow. I’d…” He paused, bit his lower lip. “I’d appreciate some company.”

“I don’t  _ do _ early,” Stan said, after a moment.

“Afternoon, then -- it only takes fifteen minutes, I swear.”

“I’ll, uh…” Stan drummed his fingers against the wall. “I’ll think about it.” And then he was out of the kitchen without another word.

When Dipper and Mabel came back in the early evening, one carrying a chest full of gold and gems and the other soaked in rainbow blood and with rainbow hair in her hands, they found the tension in the house less oppressive than it had been, but still present. That night, after the barrier was put up, Ford didn’t retreat into the basement to sleep, and instead disappeared into the room that had once had the electron carpet -- he noticed absently that the carpet had been removed, but he wasn’t about to go looking for it right at that moment.

He was honestly looking forward to getting some proper rest for once.


	5. Unexpected Visitors

It turned out that Ford’s “safe trail” wasn’t actually as safe as it had been thirty years ago.

Ford dove into the underbrush, leaving Stan yelling curses behind him as he was dragged into the open clearing they had arrived at.

One of the three figures that had suddenly appeared in their path hit Stan over the head -- a pig-like creature with leather skin and thin, sharp spikes jutting out along his spine. “Shut it.”

Stan collapsed to the ground; Ford’s hand instantly went to the gun at his belt, and he gritted his teeth. Bounty hunters.  _ How _ they had managed to reach his dimension and disturb the peace, he wasn’t entirely sure and he didn’t want to find out, because that question would lead to him being captured and being taken  _ away _ from the home that he had fought so hard to reach.

“That one’s got five fingers,” said the stick-thin, green humanoid figure with pointed ears. “You grabbed the wrong one! We want the six-fingered one, not this oaf.” He kicked Stan, who rolled over and let out a groan, still stunned from the whack to the head.

“Use him as bait,” said the third figure -- a portly, scaly lizard humanoid who was anything  _ but _ fat, if Ford’s experience was anything to go by. “They must be related, if you look at their faces. Humans look even more alike when they are.”

Ford gritted his teeth even more tightly. He had to do something, but his gun didn’t have very many shots left, and they wouldn’t be able to do much against two of the three hunters.

_ Of course my luck has decided to run out. _

A hand came down on Ford’s left shoulder, and he stiffened and whirled, pulling out his weapon. He froze when his eyes locked with the figure who had come up behind him. “What in--”

“Shh.” The red-gold, fox-like ears on top of the other’s head twitched and swiveled, tracking the sounds from the clearing and the forest itself. “I’m here to help.”

The  _ last _ person Ford had been expecting to hear  _ that _ from was himself.

“Help?” he hissed. “How do you expect to help?”

“A distraction.” The other Ford’s seven red-gold tails twitched in a way that made Ford think of a nervous, cornered animal. “Wait here; we’ll take care of the rest.”

“What are you--”

His counterpart dashed out of the underbrush before Ford could say another word. “Leave him be!”

The bounty hunters looked up from Stan’s form sharply.

“Cipher’s runaway pet!” crowed the lizard. “That’s a double score! Get him!”

Ford felt a chill run down his spine.  _ Cipher’s runaway-- _

His counterpart held a hand back behind him as the bounty hunters ran towards him. A  _ fireball _ materialized in his open palm, and he threw it at the bounty hunters -- who dodged it -- before bolting into a different part of the forest. “Maria, now!”

Another figure came out of the forest as Ford’s counterpart disappeared: a young woman in red, orange, and gray armor, and a frown on her face that made her seem older.

“Wait!” The pig started flailing, trying to stop. “That’s--”

The young woman flicked her wrists, and a flat disk of blue energy appeared under the three aliens. Ford’s eyes widened sharply as the three dropped into it with yelps of surprise, the disk winking out of existence a moment later.

The woman relaxed, her frown shifting into a wide grin. “Got ‘em, Sixer!”

Ford’s counterpart came out of the trees, looking relieved. “Lower-level bounty hunters; obviously, they’re still running around despite the fact that we’ve cut off the head.” He looked over at where Ford was and motioned with his head to come out of hiding.

Ford hesitated, then stepped out from the trees, gun still in hand and the two newcomers kept in his line of vision as he moved over to where Stan lay on the ground. “Stan, are you all right?”

Stan groaned, then rolled over and started to sit up. “Ugh. What the he--eeeck was that? They looked like something out of a B-rated horror movie.”

“You can swear in front of me, Stan, I’ve grown used to it,” the woman called over -- right; Ford’s counterpart had called her Maria.

Stan muttered something as Ford dropped his gun near him and grabbed his brother’s head to give it a look over. “H-hey! Watch it!”

“Hold still; you might have a concussion,” Ford replied shortly as his counterpart and Maria came closer. He eyed them as they came to a stop, then looked back at Stan and looked him in the eyes. “...it doesn’t look bad; some aspirin and you should be fine.”

Stan grunted and pulled his head back. “I could’a told you that, Poindexter.” He looked over at the other two and blinked. “Am I seein’ double or…?”

“I’m actually physically here, yes,” Ford’s counterpart replied. “I’m a dimensional double of your brother, to put it simply; others call me either Kitsune or Sixer.”

“Would’a thought they’d’ve called ya Seven or somethin’.” Stan frowned at the seven tails behind Kitsune, which twitched in response to Stan’s comment.

“He  _ had _ six when I met him,” Maria explained. “One of his tails split two years later.”

“It  _ what?” _

“Is this natural or is this something else?” Ford asked sharply.

Kitsune’s tails stilled at the question, falling limp behind him; his ears flicked back. “...Something else.”

“If you’re worried about Sixer, you really shouldn’t be; the Cipher that did that to him isn’t around to cause anymore trouble.” Maria folded her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels, a knowing smirk crossing her face.

Ford’s eyes widened sharply.

“What are you talking about?!” Stan demanded. “Yer leavin’ me out of the conversation here! Who is this Cipher guy you’re talking about?!”

Maria and Kitsune stared at Stan, then looked over at Ford.

“You haven’t had Weirdmageddon?” Kitsune asked in confusion. “Or has Stan not recovered all of his memories yet?”

“What are you talkin’ about? I haven’t forgotten anything!” Stan snapped back.

“Weirdmageddon?” Ford repeated in confusion. He blinked, and his eyes widened as he connected together the information he was hearing. “You mean  _ that’s _ what would have happened if I had come back through my portal and Bill had gotten his hands on the Rift--”

“Yes,” Kitsune replied flatly.

“Who’s Bill?” Stan grumbled.

“His full name is Bill Cipher,” Maria replied. “He’s...simply put, he’s a demon who has an odd attraction to Fords across dimensions. Your brother’s lucky that he managed to get back here without opening a rift -- speaking of which, how  _ did _ you get back?” She looked at Ford with a raised eyebrow.

“A young man named Joshua did the exact same thing for me that you did to those bounty hunters.” Ford motioned to where the bounty hunters had been a moment ago. He was a little confused as to how the girl knew  _ anything _ about Bill Cipher and was willing to speak freely about him and  _ not _ attempt to arrest them.

Maria blinked, then a smirk crossed her face and she snorted. “Joshua is neither young  _ nor _ human, and neither am I.” She rapped her right hand against her chest.

_ Clang clang. _

Ford stiffened at the metallic noise; Stan’s eyes widened.

“I’m surprised that he managed to get you here without Cipher getting involved, though.” Maria frowned, lowering her hand. “I’ve tried that before -- he  _ always _ blocks the natural pathways off; that’s why your rift maker is usually the only thing that works. Why wouldn’t he get involved this time….” Her frown deepened, and she tapped again against her chin thoughtfully.

“ _ I _ think I know what happened.”

Maria, Stan, and Ford looked over at Kitsune.

“ _ Enlighten me,” _ Ford said dryly.

“There is someone that we have made the acquaintance of a year after I met Maria,” Kitsune said carefully. “A being who is a fury goddess who has had interactions with the Mas -- w-with Cipher.”

Maria looked up at him with a worried expression as Ford’s eyes widened sharply. Maria slipped her hand in his and squeezed it, which seemed to ground Kitsune.

Kitsune closed his eyes and took in a breath for a moment, then opened his eyes again. “She was in a relationship with him previously, but after he stole part of her power from her, she went on a sort of revenge quest against any and all versions of Cipher. Which leads me to believe that she has already found  _ your _ iteration of him and has destroyed him utterly.”

“Huh.” Stan blinked. “Well that was nice of her.”

“Did you just almost call Cipher  _ Master?” _ Ford demanded harshly. Even more connections were starting to come together -- especially considering what the bounty hunters had  _ called _ Kitsune.

Kitsune winced and pulled back a little, but not very far because of Maria’s grip on her hand. “I-I was  _ not _ \--”

“Sixer.” Maria looked at him with concern, then looked back at Ford. “You didn’t know about that either, huh.”

“Know about  _ what? _ ” Ford hissed. “That the bounty hunters referred to him as Cipher’s runaway  _ pet? _ Because that and what he nearly said are all that I am going on and I would  _ love _ to know  _ why.” _

Kitsune’s ears flicked back as he shuddered. “I lost. That’s the simplest answer.”

Ford stiffened at Kitsune’s statement, eyes widening. “You  _ what? _ ” That was not the answer that he had been expecting from his counterpart. He rose to his feet, staring at Kitsune. “But...but the Quantum Destabilizer -- Our -- my plan to--”

“I missed.” Kitsune wasn’t looking at any of them. “The Zodiac could have worked,  _ should _ have worked, but Stanley and I got into an argument and Cipher took that to his advantage.” He took in a shaky breath. “The appearance I have now is a result of that; the  _ reason _ that I nearly called him  _ that _ is a result of that. And he did this not only to me; he did it to the rest of us as well.”

“No….”

Kitsune nodded glumly. “The four of us were changed and forced into service. We were saved from that some time ago, but...our dimension….” He shook his head again. “We were able to save the people in Gravity Falls, but no one else.”

Ford stared at his counterpart as Kitsune’s statement sank in, Stan also looking at him with a murderous expression at the mere  _ idea _ that Dipper and Mabel could have possibly been pulled into this. Ford hadn’t thought that it would have been possible for any one of his counterparts to lose against Bill, to lose with not only the one weapon that they planned to use against Bill directly in the Nightmare Realm, but  _ also _ with the possible  _ backup _ they had if he ever happened to enter their respective worlds -- much less if they ever managed to find all the parts of the Zodiac, which was apparently possible but not something that Ford was entirely willing to put stock in.

Especially since it was apparent that Cipher was no longer going to be attempting to make his way into his dimension.

“So, wait.” Stan pushed himself up to his feet, swayed for a moment, then managed to keep his balance. “Yer sayin’ that there are some places where yer entire dimension fell ta pieces?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Kitsune replied. “I’m at fault for that as much as the Ciphers, considering what I was used for. Those bounty hunters you saw were no doubt planning on reporting in to  _ some _ Cipher with your brother so they could utilize the network that  _ I  _ left behind. Maria and I have been working to tear it apart, but...it’s been difficult, considering how large the mess I left behind is.” He sighed and shook his head.

Ford stared at his counterpart, his mind whirring as he put the pieces together -- what his counterpart was saying, what it was that he wasn’t, what it possibly meant for his other counterparts--

“How many?” Ford asked finally.

“I’m not sure of the exact number.” Kitsune shrugged a little.

“I’m sure Agnostic might know,” Maria commented, thoughtful. “He doesn’t like to think back on what happened, though.”

“Who?” Stan frowned. “Another Ford?”

“Yeah.” Maria looked over at Ford. “One who got brainwashed pretty severely. He’s one of the few that we’ve managed to rescue from Cipher’s clutches.”

Kitsune shuddered. “And I’m glad we got to  _ him _ first. I don’t know  _ what _ things would look like if  _ Bishop  _ was still--” He shook his head.

Ford flinched back. He’d heard of Bishop, of his religious fantasies and how easily words flowed from him that could make you consider changing sides. If he was going by  _ Agnostic _ now --

Well.

“What, was he some kinda demon-worshipping -- “ Stan stopped short when Kitsune nodded. “Holy Moses.”

“He’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Maria said. “There are versions of  _ you _ running around doing his bidding too, Stan.”

“Me?” Stan snorted. “Like that Cipher guy would want anythin’ ta do with me. I don’t got the brains that Ford has.”

“But you have the skills to see through his attempts at making deals,” Maria replied. “It takes a con to outcon a con, and you have the reputation of being the best at that out of the entire multiverse.”

Stan straightened himself up at that, puffing out his chest as Ford rolled his eyes.

“That can’t be it,” Ford said, frowning.

“Considering that Stans have been rather consistent throughout the multiverse as being the one to trick Cipher in a final deal? I’d say that Maria’s actually right,” Kitsune replied.

Ford stared at his counterpart in disbelief. “You...you’re backing her up?”

Kitsune shrugged. “The dimension I now call home has nine other versions of me and eight versions of everyone else in our family. I’ve grown to know and appreciate the quirks everyone has.” He smiled a little. “It gets to be rather entertaining when my brother and his counterparts attempt to out-con each other, especially after a few drinks.”

Maria snickered. Ford stared with an incredulous expression. His counterpart could  _ not _ have been serious.

“That’s a crowded house,” Stan commented. He swayed a little, then righted himself. “Speakin’ of which, we should probably get back to the Shack. I don’t want to leave that place in the kids’ hands for too long.” He started to take a few steps forward, then stumbled and started to fall over, only to get caught by Kitsune before he could hit the ground.

“We’ll stay in this dimension long enough to get you back, at least,” Kitsune said. “Then we should probably get moving ourselves.” He looked over at Maria, who hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“I’ll be fine, you.” Stan righted himself again. “You go on an’ keep huntin’ down those guys who are goin’ after my brother. If any more of ‘em show up again here, we’ll be ready fer ‘em next time.”

Kitsune hesitated, unsure. “Being out in the forest with you as you are could be--”

“Grunkle Stan!”

“Great-Uncle Ford!”

The group of four turned their heads as Dipper and Mabel suddenly crashed through the underbrush and grabbed their grunkles in tight hugs.

“What are you two doing out here?” Stan demanded, looking down at Mabel. “I thought I told you kids to stay back and watch the Shack!”

“We saw these monsters come out of a portal!” Mabel looked up. “They were talking about taking Grunkle Ford away!”

“W-we gotta get back to the Shack before that mean pig-thing finds you,” Dipper added. He started tugging Ford back the way they had come.

“We’re already taken care of them, Dipper,” Kitsune spoke up. “You don’t need to worry about them finding your grunkles, I can assure you.”

Dipper and Mabel stared at Kitsune and Maria with wide eyes; Maria started giggling at their expressions.

“U-Uh….” Dipper looked between Ford and Kitsune. “What’s--”

“Ohmygoshyouhave _ tails!” _ Mabel let Stan go and moved closer to Kitsune’s seven tails. “They look so soft! Can I--”

Kitsune chuckled as one of his tails moved a little closer to Mabel. She instantly buried her fingers in his red-gold fur and gasped.

“Dipper, come over and feel this! It’s like a cloud or something!”

Dipper came over, frowning, but curious. “Mabel, clouds are water vapor, they can’t exactly be--” He stopped when he put his hand in Kitsune’s fur. “Whoa; that  _ is _ soft.”

A low rumbling noise came from Kitsune; Ford was startled to find he could identify it as  _ purring. _

Mabel gave a delighted squeal. “Ohmygosh! You sound like my cat when he’s on catnip!”

The purring puttered to a halt as Kitsune looked down at Mabel with an unsure expression.

Stan and Maria laughed at the look on his face as Ford’s mouth quirked up in a slight smile. Another thought popped into his head then, and the smile faded.

“Who were you before?”

Kitsune looked over at Ford at the question while Dipper and Mabel exchanged confused looks. “You mean….”

Ford nodded. “Yes; before...all that.” He eyed the flicking ears on top of Kitsune’s head.

Kitsune frowned, then sighed and shook his head. “It’s...difficult, to remember before. I’ve spent well over six centuries like this; my memory-keeping abilities may be sharper now, but...some things still fade. One or two memories stand out among the mess, but not many. And...not very many good ones.”

Maria looked up at him with a concerned expression, biting her lower lip. Ford got the impression that she had heard him say something similar before.

“Why do you ask?” Kitsune looked at Ford with a slightly-cocked head, almost like an animal that had spotted something curious.

Ford paused. “I wanted to know if -- since you ran in...similar circles, for a time -- if you knew of a mercenary known as Fish.”

Maria’s brow furrowed, and she closed one eye as Kitsune’s left ear twitched.

“Fish? I don’t-- Oh. Oh, you mean Pirana.” Kitsune nodded a little. “I heard of him, but I never met him myself. Considering he hunts us down for sport, it was more than likely that he would have killed me on sight, so we were kept out of each other’s way.” He paused. “Although, now, there’s no doubt that he’s coming after me.”

“Ho-ly scrap,” Maria squeaked as she opened her eye again. “ _ Holy scrap _ I do not think I’d do much against him.”

“Interdimensional database?” Ford guessed, not sure how the World Jumper would have been able to gain such an expression so fast.

“Tumblr,” Maria replied flatly. “Any alternate universe that exists, there’s a chance there’s  _ something _ for it on Tumblr.”

“Considering that you’ve heard of him, you must have had times where he passed you by for another--”

“I’ve had him chase me five times.” Ford’s interruption caused Kitsune’s eyes to widen sharply. “Joshua saved my life the fifth time.”

“...you must be quite lucky, then,” Kitsune said.

“How bad is this Fish guy?” Stan asked.

“He’d kill the entire town without a second thought, so long as he could get to your brother -- and then he’d kill him, too.” The grim tone in Kitsune’s voice caused Stan to stiffen. “He is  _ not _ someone that people can stand toe-to-toe against -- not unless you can appeal to his sense of humanity, somehow, but the chance of that is silmmer than Cipher when he’s looked at from the side.”

“Who?” Dipper asked in confusion.

“No one you have to worry about,” Maria replied quickly.

“And to hear that you’ve gotten away from him  _ five times, _ I can’t say I--” Kitsune stopped short. “Wait.  _ Lucky. _ ” His eyes widened slowly. “That’s you, isn’t it? The luckiest of us?”

“...so I’ve been told,” Ford replied carefully as Maria and his family stared at him with wide eyes. “But that was only once, from Jheselbraum -- how do you know about--”

“I think  _ I _ was the one who gave you that moniker.” An excited smile started to spread across Kitsune’s face. “You remember -- in the marketplace? Your translator wasn’t working but you knew enough of the language to barter with one of the shopkeepers for--”

“A part of the Quantum Destabilizer while barely keeping in his good graces, yes.” That was a memory that stuck out in Ford’s mind clear as day. It had been early on in his journey across the Multiverse, when he had still been getting his bearings and trying to figure out how in the world he was going to survive with Bill constantly on his tail. A figure with salt-and-pepper hair and a covered face had found him after a nearly-botched trade with a tradesman and had offered to repair his translator and give him a little advice.

_ “Well, Lucky, I’m surprised you managed to get away from him without losing a finger!” _

“That was  _ you?” _ Ford stared at Kitsune.

Maria was looking back and forth between the two of them with a wide-eyed expression, a grin crossing her face as Kitsune nodded.

“Yes; it was!” Kitsune laughed. “It must have been...oh, five years before I’d managed to gather all the parts I needed. I’m glad you managed to return home safely after that, and with a surprising turn of your luck then, as well. Your luck should certainly hold now.” He looked at Maria. “I think we’ll be all right leaving them as they are.”

Maria laughed. “All right.” She looked at Dipper, Mabel, Stan, and Ford in turn and gave them a thumbs-up. “I’m glad you guys don’t have to go through what your counterparts did in other dimensions. Hopefully Gideon Gleeful will get a swift kick to the pants some other way.” She clapped her hands together, and a shimmering blue, flat disk of a portal appeared in the air next to her -- a doorway between dimensions.

“Wait!” Dipper moved closer. “I have so many questions!”

“We don’t have much time to answer them, I’m afraid.” Maria rubbed Dipper’s cap-covered head. “You’ll get your answers eventually; maybe your Grunkle Ford will be willing to tell you stories one day, when you’re a little older. Until then, you kids stay safe, don’t read any weird cave inscriptions aloud, and try to teach Gideon a lesson in a way that will get him to see reason  _ without _ putting you all in a life-or-death situation. The kid needs guidance, not to be turned into an outcast.”

Mabel fidgeted as Kitsune slid his tail out from under her fingers. “But...but Gideon--”

“I know what he did, sweetheart, but he can change. It’ll take time, and probably more lessons that he had to learn in other dimensions, but he will eventually become less stalker-ish. Eventually.” Maria ruffled Mabel’s hair as well. “Don’t ever tell him he’s good boyfriend material, though; I wouldn’t trust someone with a stalker past to get in a relationship with me.”

Kitsune chuckled, his tails curling at the tips. Ford found the display odd, but he didn’t get the chance to ask what it meant, because the next thing they knew, Maria and Kitsune had stepped through the portal and out of their dimension.

Leaving Ford to be stared at by Mabel and Dipper.

“Why didn’t you  _ tell _ us you knew another you?” Mabel asked, eyes shining. “Are other ones gonna show up now?”

“Highly unlikely,” Ford replied.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re the luckiest you out there,” Stan said with a snort. “There’s no way that’s possible; you’ve never beaten me at poker.”

“Because you  _ cheat, _ and besides, my luck only seems to work when it’s to my advantage somewhere in the future,” Ford hissed back.

Stan huffed, took a step, and stumbled. Ford quickly caught him and pulled Stan’s left arm over his shoulders.

“Let’s get you back to the Shack and looked over properly,” Ford muttered. He started to move back towards the house, Stan limping in step with him and Dipper and Mabel moving ahead of them.

“C-could you tell us about the other dimensions?” Dipper asked, hesitant and hopeful.

“Oo! Oo! Did you find a dimension made of cotton candy?” Mabel asked.

Something about Mabel’s eagerness made Ford laugh a little. “No, no.” His face scrunched up as he thought back to some of the dimensions he’d been to. “Although, there was this  _ one _ where everything was shaped like the letter ‘M.’” He shuddered.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Mabel commented.

“Every single word they spoke started with the letter ‘m,’” Ford said. “I was considering ‘mommitting muicide’ if I never found a natural rift away from there.”

“Ford!” Stan looked at him sharply as Dipper and Mabel stared at him with wide eyes. “Lay off that kinda talk, will ya? Lighten up for once, geez.”

Ford ducked his head a little at that, but a slight smile appeared on his face. “All right, all right. Let me try to think of a different one….”


End file.
